Once again, I plague you with a vague cultural reference in my title, and I imagine most of you who have seen Chicken Run probably don't even remember the line from it. In all honesty, I might have even misquoted it a bit.
Yesterday was my hardest day in India yet. The film crew for Ecuador is split into two different crews, the Portuguese and the Indians. Because we were recruited in India we fell in with the Indians (and so did all of the hired travelers, mostly backpackers) headed up by macho-cool Bollywood bigwig Ragesh. Money was discussed vaguely upfront in words like "compensation", but when I pried for a number I was told, more or less, we would get what our fellow American extras were getting. According to Geoff and Chris, two Virginians recruited for the same reason I was, Rs 2000 per day was what they shook hands on.
The day was long, and while Ragesh had entertained Brittany during the first shooting, Brittany was treated as lower-caste for yesterday's filming, which definitely tried our patience. It might not have been so bad if they hadn't told us to arrive at 3:00pm and not even start until 7:30pm, and then left Brittany out in a dust storm with the male Indian servants. As I said, we arrived at three and shooting continued well into the night. In uncomfortable clothes, and even more uncomfortable shoes I stood around waiting for the film to roll only to walk around as if I was at a nice 1905 Indian party. Things seemed to be moving fast, but I was more than done by 3:00am when things started wrapping up.
Ragesh once again revealed his generosity by giving large bottles of cold Kingfisher to the cast, which was nice at the end of a long night. And so, we got changed and he sat down individually with the each extra and gave them their share. This is when things turned sour. First let me say, we did an estimate of 18 hours of work over 2 days, with a day between. Brittany and I stayed 2 days more than intended for this film. Ragesh handed me an envelope with Rs 2000 ($50USD). When I confronted him about paying me half the agreed amount he said that was all that was in the budget, it was what everyone like me was getting, and the natives were getting paid even less. I later found out that one Canadian black girl received only Rs 1500 because she was black.
As Ragesh, who I had trusted and considered a friend, tried to manipulate me into settling I became increasingly angrier. He claimed it wasn't his call (but buying everyone a beer was?) and tried to guilt me by saying he could only give me money out of his own pocket. After over 2 weeks in India I have been on guard of people who will stiff me and take advantage of me, and I thought I had finally found someone I could trust, and when Ragesh betrayed me, it was the straw that broke the camel's back. And while he remained calm the entire time, and begged me to remain calm as to not draw attention to ourselves, I took everything out on him. The beautiful and terrible thing was he deserved it. I didn't call him names or throw a tantrum, I questioned his morality and I made him put himself in my position.
When all was said in done, I told him that it wasn't about the money now, and that I would walk away with Rs 2000, but at least I could sleep at night. He told me to call him in the morning and we would see about calling Bollywood and getting more money. I had him write down the number on the envelope that had the money in it, and he specifically said not to mention any of this to my fellow "actors".
Brittany and I left. It was 4:30am and we began walking from the fort. Some of the Indian crew stopped for us and took us as far as the clock tower, which was closed. So we had to work away around it. It was like a nightmare. Muslim prayer time was coming over loud speakers and dogs were howling. We walked narrow, jagged, and dark alley ways trying to get to our hotel. Dogs viciously barked and followed us, and by God's grace never attacked. We finally were making progress to our hotel, which was probably a little over a mile away. We tried to get an auto driver to take us to our hotel for Rs 20, but he insisted on Rs 50 even though it would have been a two minute drive for him. We continued to walk, knowing we had nothing to look forward to. It was 5:00am in the morning, we weren't packed, and our bus left at 7:00am. We were dirty, Brittany more-so as a bird crapped on her hair, but even then had little time to bathe. We were tired and my feet were sore from the costume shoes.
Finally, we found an auto driver, and he agreed to take us for Rs 20. We got to our hotel and as we walked in the door Brittany saw four dogs feeding on a dead animal, probably the cat we had watched around our hotel. We had seen dogs chase it before, but it always outsmarted them. So, with my blood still pumping from Ragesh, the stress of nothing to look forward to, and the grotesque image of four dogs wildly feeding on something, I was defeated. We were defeated. I had prayed some on the way there, but the more I prayed the more hopeless I felt.
We packed our bags and tried to sleep. I had about an hour when the alarm went off at 6:00am. I knew I'd have to get up and get on a bus with no AC. I would sleep on the bus and therefore my sleep pattern would be screwed up. Then it occured to me that the tickets were literally $5USD total. I figured if I couldn't get a refund or another bus, the $5 would be well spent on sleep. And so we slept on, waking up in time for me to shave (for the first time in over 2 weeks), do some last minute packing, check out of our hotel, and arrange the bus situation. It turned out we were able to simply reschedule our bus for no fee.
As I've said, Brittany and I have been praying about how to love the people in India. I don't know if I handled Ragesh as Christ would have. I do know he deserved every single word I said. I know that I didn't insult him, even though I was blunt. I'm sure Ragesh knew we are Christians, have we affected his perception of Christianity negatively, and if so, does that still mean I handled it wrong? You weren't there, and to explain it all would be tedious; but I do think that there's a line, particularly in business, when stern words are appropriate.
Brittany and I have been purposefully ordering a bit more food than we can eat when we go out. It's normally something cheap, like bread. We keep it with us and give it to street kids when they beg. Today, after arranging for another bus, we ate at the omelet shop one last time. We took one of the omelets with us knowing we would come across a street kid. Sure enough, after some time, a small group of kids asked us for food. They were actually very polite about it, and I gave them the leftovers. It was endearing to see their gratitude towards us, and the way they shared with one another. It's always a risk that they will continue to beg for more afterwards, but they were content to share the omelet.
There is hope yet. Off to Udaipur.
It’s September now and I’m editing this for spelling and grammar leaving the details and writing style intact. As a vital historical note, I should mention Ragesh did slip me another Rs2000 out of his own money. I suspect that it was a simple matter of reimbursement from Bollywood, and didn’t really come out of his own pocket like he would have me think.
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